Learning How To Fly

I am sooooo~ sorry! I have not updated in an extremely long time on any of my stories or added a new one, and my excuses are getting to yr 12 with a huge workload, added to getting a boyfriend a little while ago and QCS exams on at the moment, as in today and tomorrow. I know I really shouldn't make excuses, and I'm sorry, but I haven't had the inspiration to write when I actually can. The only times I do right now are when I have no way of accessing my laptop until hours later, and usually by then I've forgotten or lost my note of it..... 

What I do have is this short story that I wrote for my last QCS practice that we did, based off of the test paper two years back on the topic of flight. So, because I hadn't updated Faking It Big yet, I decided to post this here to at least let you know that I haven't given up on it and am trying to get a good size chapter with enough content that doesn't seem thrown at the page! I will not give up, so stick with me, please, and thanks for doing so for as long as you have!

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My rapid heartbeat echoed in my ears, almost drowning out all surrounding noise. Almost. Unfortunately, I wasn’t so lucky and the shouts and calls of my name along with insults still tore at my already battered heart, punctuated by the occasional fist or boot hitting me harshly in the stomach.

“You’re such a wimp, Jay. You’re nothing!” I heard one particularly loud attacker yell.

I knew that on my own I wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop them, but I couldn’t help but try. I stood up when my attackers paused and braced myself again, facing things head on. Even if fight or flight were my only options, I couldn’t run, and fighting wasn’t an option.

I shut my eyes and waited for a punch that never came. I opened my eyes to see my attackers, the people I thought were in my friends and classmates, frozen in fear. I turned to see something only feasible in my nightmares: my old bullies from primary school.

A flutter in my heart was the only warning I had before my legs gave out in renewed fear. The people I had feared the most, the ones who I never forgot about, were standing right in front of me, glaring ahead at the scene.

As my mind slowly started shutting down, I looked up desperately, hoping for something to happen and stop this, but nothing came. All I saw was an eagle, flying grandly above everything, and I wished I could do the same. I wanted to fly away, to escape; I wanted to be in control.

I snapped out of my trance at the sound of a thud and a moan of pain, swinging my head back to see one of my classmates turned bully down at my level on his knees, one hand to his cheek. I looked up in time to see one of my unlikely saviours about to swing yet again.

I jumped up with a shout, “No!”

Everyone turned to look at me, and again I wanted only to escape, but this time out of anxiety. I struggled even to breathe until I felt a strong hand on my shoulder. As I turned and saw the three people I used to fear most nod supportingly, I felt my fears, my restraints slowly melt away. And then I was flying.

I smiled as I leaned down, offering a hand to my classmate on the ground. He took it hesitantly and I pulled him up soundly. He stared as I just continued to smile. I let go of his hand in favour of patting his shoulder roughly. He started and I said only, “I forgive you.”

At that, I turned and walked away, only I wasn’t running. This time was different. This time I was flying. I glanced briefly over my shoulder to see my newly acquired saviours still following me, cheeky grins plastered on their faces.

I sent them one just as toothy in return and laughed with them as we shoved each other playfully. I didn’t complain when a hand ruffled my hair slightly and just continued laughing as the light feeling in my chest just grew more enjoyable.

I smiled again when I thought about that bird and dismissed my previous thoughts. I definitely didn’t need that kind of flight. I needed something else, and I knew what it was because I already had it. 

It’s like that kite you see in the park on the weekend; it’s flying, but can never get away, and it doesn’t need to, because as much as it would love to leave, to fly away for good, it knows that it needs its tether for support, or it would be blown away by the unyielding wind. 

Like a kite, I was tied to the people around me, my old bullies, in ways I would never like to admit. My oppressors became my saviours. They helped me to fly.